Bar-20 Days by Clarence E. Mulford (best black authors TXT) đ
- Author: Clarence E. Mulford
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Hopalong cut another piece from the rope in his hand and watched his companionâs busy fingers. âTie him good, Johnny; heâs the only ace weâve drawn in this game so far, anâ we mustnât lose him.â
Johnny tied an extra knot for luck and leaned forward, his eyes riveted on the bump under the victimâs coat. His darting hand brought into sight that which pleased him greatly. âOh, joy! Here, Hoppy; you take it.â
Hopalong turned the weapon over in his hand, spun the cylinder and gloated, the clicking sweet music to his ears. âPlumb full, too! I never reckoned Iâd ever be so tickled over a snub-nosed gun like this âbut I feel like singing!â
âAnâ I feel like dying,â grunted Johnny, grabbing at his stomach. âIf the blamed shack would only stand still!â he groaned, gazing at the floor with strong disgust. âI donât reckon Iâve ever been so blamed sick in all myââ the sentence was unfinished, for the open porthole caught his eye and he leaped forward to use it for a collar.
Hopalong gazed at him in astonishment and sudden pity took possession of him as his pallid companion left the porthole and faced him.
âYou ought to have something to eat, KidâIâm purty hungry myselfâ what the blazes!â he exclaimed, for Johnnyâs protesting wail was finished outside the port. Then a light broke upon him and he wondered how soon it would be his turn to pay tribute to Neptune.
âMr. Wilkins!â shouted a voice from the deck, and Hopalong moved back a step. âMr. Wilkins!â After a short silence the voice soliloquized: âGuess he changed his mind about it; Iâll get âem up for him,â and feet came into view. When halfway down the ladder the second mate turned his head and looked blankly down a gun barrel while a quiet but angry voice urged him further: âKeep a-coming, keep a-coming!â The second mate complained, but complied.
âStick âem up higherânow, Johnny, wobble around behind the nice man anâ take his gunâyou shut yore yap! Iâm bossing this trick, not you. Got it, Kid? Thereâs the ropeâthatâs right. Nobodyâd think you sick to see you work. Well, thatâs a good draw; but itâs only a pair of aces against a full, at that. Wonder whoâll be the next. Hope itâs the foreman.â
Johnny, keeping up by sheer grit, pointed to the rear wall. âWhat about that?â
For reply his companion walked over to it, put his shoulder to it and pushed. He stepped back and hurled his weight against it, but it was firm despite its squeaking protest. Then he examined it foot by foot and found a large knot, which he drove in by a blow of the gun. Bending, he squinted through the opening for a full minute and then reported:
âPurty black in there at this end, but up at the other thereâs a light from a hole in the roof, anâ I could see boxes anâ things like that. I reckon itâs the main cellar.â
âIf we could get out at the other end with that gun youâve got we could raise blazes for a while,â suggested Johnny. âAnyhow, mebby they can come at us that way when they find out what weâve gone anâ done.â
âYoâre right,â Hopalong replied, looking around. Seeing an iron bar he procured it and, pushing it through the knot hole in the partition, pulled. The board, splitting and cracking under the attack, finally broke from its fastenings with a sharp report, and Hopalong, pulling it aside, stepped out of sight of his companion. Johnny was grinning at the success of his plan when he was interrupted.
âAhoy, down there!â yelled a stentorian voice from above. âMr. Wilkins! What the devil are you doing so long?â and after a very short wait other feet came into sight. Just then the second mate, having managed to slip off the gag, shouted warning:
âLook out, Captain! Theyâve got us and our guns! One of them hasââ but Johnnyâs knee thudded into his chest and ended the sentence as a bullet sent a splinter flying from under the captainâs foot.
âHang these guns!â Johnny swore, and quickly turned to secure the gag in the mouth of the offending second mate. âYou make any more yaps like that anâ Iâll wing you for keeps with yore own gun!â he snapped. âWeâre caught in yore trap anâ weâll fight to a finish. Youâll be the first to go under if you gets any smart.â
âAhoy, men!â roared the captain in a towering rage, dancing frantically about on the deck and shouting for the crew to join him. He filled the air with picturesque profanity and stamped and yelled in passion at such rank mutiny.
âHand grenades! Hand grenades!â he cried. Then he remembered that his two mates were also below and would share in the mutineersâ fate, and his rage increased at his galling helplessness. When he had calmed sufficiently to think clearly he realized that it was certain death for any one to attempt going down the ladder, and that his must be a waiting game. He glanced at his crew, thirteen good men, all armed with windlass bars and belaying pins, and gave them orders. Two were to watch the hatch and break the first head to appear, while the others returned to work. Hunger and thirst would do the rest. And what joy would be his when they were forced to surrender!
Hopalong groped his way slowly towards the patch of light, barking his shins, stumbling and falling over the barrels and crates and finally, losing his footing at a critical moment, tumbled down upon a box marked âCotton.â There was a splintering crash and the very faint clink of metal. Dazed and bruised, he sat up and felt of himselfâand found that he had lost his gun in the fall.
âNow, where in blazes did it fly to?â he muttered angrily, peering about anxiously. His eyes suddenly opened their widest and he stared in surprise at a field gun which covered him; and then he saw parts of two more.
âGood Lord! Is this a gunboat?â he cried. âAre we up against bluejackets anâ Uncle Sam?â He glanced quickly back the way he had come when he heard Johnnyâs shot, but he could see nothing. He figured that Johnny had sense enough to call for help if he needed it, and put that possibility out of his mind. âNaw, this ainât no gunboatâthe Government donât steal men; it enlists âem. But itâs a funny pile of junk, all the same. Where in blazes is that toy gun? Well, Iâll be hanged!â and he plunged toward the âCottonâ box he had burst in his descent, and worked at it frantically.
âWinchesters! Winchesters!â he cried, dragging out two of them. âWhoop! Now for the cartridgesâthere shore must be some to go with these guns!â He saw a keg marked âNails,â and managed to open it after great laborâand found it full of army Colts. Forcing down the desire to turn a handspring, he slipped one of the six-shooters in his empty holster and patted it lovingly. âOld friend, Iâm shore glad to see you, all right. Youâve been used, but that donât make no difference.â Searching further, he opened a full box of machetes, and soon after found cartridges of many kinds and calibres. It took him but a few minutes to make his selection and cram his pockets with them. Then he filled two Colts and two Winchestersâand executed a short jig to work off the dangerous pressure of his exuberance.
âBut what an unholy lot of weapons,â he soliloquized on his way back to Johnny. âAnâ theyâre all second-hand. Cannons, tooâanâ machetes!â he exclaimed, suddenly understanding. âJumping Jerusalem!âa filibustering expedition bound for Cuba, or one of them wildcat republics down south! Oh, ho, my friends; I see where you have bit off moreân you can chew.â In his haste to impart the joyous news to his companion, he barked his shins shamefully.
ââWay down south in the land oâ cotton, cinnamon seed anââwhoa, blast you!â and Hopalong stuck his head through the opening in the partition and grinned. âHeard you shoot, Kid; I reckoned you might need meâanâ these!â he finished, looking fondly upon the weapons as he shoved them into the forecastle.
Johnny groaned and held his stomach, but his eyes lighted up when he saw the guns, and he eagerly took one of each kind, a faint smile wreathing his lips. âNow weâll show these water snakes what kind of men they stole,â he threatened.
Up on the deck the choleric captain still stamped and swore, and his crew, with well-concealed mirth, went about their various duties as if they were accustomed to have shanghaied men act this way. They sympathized with the unfortunate pair, realizing how they themselves would feel if shanghaied to break broncos.
Hogan, A. B., stated the feelings of his companions very well in his remarks to the men who worked alongside: âIn me hear-rt Iâm dommed glad av it, Yensen. I hope they bate the old man at his own game. âT is a shame in these days for honest men to be took in that unlawful way. Iâve heard me father tell of the press gangs on the other side, anâ ât is small business.â
Yensen looked up to reply, chanced to glance aft, and dropped his calking iron in his astonishment. âYumping Yimminy! Luk at dat fallar!â
Hogan looked. âThe deuce! Thatâs a man after me own heat-rt! Kape yore pagan mouth shut! If ye take a hand agin âem Iâll swab up the deck wid yez. Gâwan wor-rking like a sane man, ye ijit!â
âAy ent ban fight wit dat fallar! Luk at the gun!â
A man had climbed out of the after hatch and was walking rapidly towards them, a rifle in his hands, while at his thigh swung a Colt. He watched the two seamen closely and caught sight of Hoganâs twinkling blue eyes, and a smile quivered about his mouth. Hogan shut and opened one eye and went on working.
As soon as Hopalong caught sight of the captain, the rifle went up and he announced his presence without loss of time. âThrow up yore hands, you pole-cat! Iâm running this ranch from now on!â
The captain wheeled with a jerk and his mouth opened, and then clicked shut as he started forward, his rage acting galvanically. But he stopped quickly enough when he looked down the barrel of the Winchester and glared at the cool man behind it.
âWhat the blank are you doing?â he yelled.
âWell, I ainât kidnapping cow-punchers to steal my boat,â replied Hopalong. âAnâ you fellers stand still or Iâll drop you cold!â he ordered to the assembled and restless crew. âJohnny!â he shouted, and his companion popped up through the hatch like a jack-in-the-box. âGood boy, Johnny. Tie this coyote foreman like you did the others,â he ordered. While Johnny obeyed, Hopalong looked around the circle, and his eyes rested on Hoganâs face, studying it, and found something there which warmed his heart. âFriend, do you know the back trail? Can you find that runt of a town we left?â
âAye, aye.â
âShore, you; whoâd you think I was talking to? Can you find the way back, the way we came?â
âShure anâ I can that, if Iâm made to.â
âYouâll swing for mutiny if you do, you bilge-wallering pirate!â roared the trussed captain. âTake that gun away from him, dâye hear!â he yelled at the crew. âIâm captain of this ship, anâ Iâll hang every last one of you if you donât obey orders! This
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